of brush that was dry enough to burn, Potokomik and Kumuk cut snow
blocks, which they built into a circular wall about three feet high,
as a wind-break in which to sleep, and Easton and I broke some green
brush to throw upon the snow in this circular wind-break for a bed.
While we did this Iksialook filled the kettle with bits of ice and
melted it over his brush fire and made tea. There was only brush
enough to melt ice for one cup of tea each, which with our bit of cake
made our supper. . We huddled close and slept pretty well that night
on the snow with nothing but flying frost between us and heaven.

We were having our breakfast the next morning a white arctic fox came
within ten yards of our fire to look us over as though wondering what
kind of animals we were. Easton and I were unarmed, but the Eskimos
each carried a 45-90 Winchester rifle. Potokomik reached for his and
shot the fox, and in a few minutes its disjointed carcass was in our
pan with a bit of pork, and we made a substantial breakfast on the
half-cooked flesh.

That was a weary day. We came upon a large creek in the forenoon and
had to ascend its east bank for a long distance to cross it, as the
tide had broken the ice below. Some distance up the stream its valley
was wooded by just enough scattered spruce trees to hold the snow, and
wallowing and floundering through this was most exhausting.

During the day Kumuk proposed to the other Eskimos that they take all
the food and leave the white men to their fate. They had rifles while
we had none, and we could not resist. Potokomik would not hear of it.
He remained our friend. Kumuk did not like the small ration that I
dealt out, and if they could get the food out of our possession they
would have more for themselves.